Taydrcbaygan
by Never Draven
Summary: Luca is alive with celebration but the three faction leaders seek out something else. Meeting in a bar, they can't quite shake the spectre hanging over them, but, this time, they feel the can discuss it.


Luca was alive with celebration like never before. Cheering and laughing voices vied with lively music, occasionally managing to overpower it, but normally just allowing the whole to blend into a symphony of life. At times, it seemed as if the entire populace of Spira filled the various winding streets and, for once, Al Bhed mingled peacefully with Yevonites, all unified by the simple joy of knowing that life would go on. Good will flowed freely through the streets and it even permeated into the seediest of Luca's bars.

The Drop was a back-alley bar which was really only ever visited by the desperate, the poor, or the outcast, but this was mostly due to the fact that, judged by its outside, it could easily be taken for a long-abandoned storefront: the front window, though large, was streaked and clouded with dust and the door had a knob which tended to fall off in the hands of anyone who was too rough; the only real giveaway as to the bar's true identity was the small sign hanging overhead, lettered in an older, now-archaic version of Spiran, and even that tended to be overlooked by the untrained eye. It was because of this very nature that one of Spira's most popular men chose to take shelter in this particular bar and, though the pretty dark-haired bartender had offered him free drinks and company for the night, he had chosen to settle in for a night of quiet reflection, instead---or so he had thought.

"Well, if this isn't proof that you're stalking me…"

"Amazing that he can manage that, despite the fact that he was here before you, Gippal."

"Eh, technicalities, Noojster."

"What are you two doing here?"

"The same as you," Nooj answered simply. Not waiting for an invitation, he seated himself at one of the empty chairs around the table and Gippal soon claimed the other. Despite the fact that the three faction leaders were now again gathered in one place, the only attention they garnered was from the bartender and that was only to provide drinks—and the promise of more to come; it was clear that they could speak, here, with privacy otherwise lacking.

"I had thought you'd both be joining in the celebrations," Baralai commented quietly. For a brief moment, he seemed confused as Gippal burst into laughter, but he soon realized what he had said. "What I mean is that I assumed that your groups would be calling for you to be with them."

"Well, Nooj _is_ such a social butterfly." Gippal snickered, attempting but failing to keep his amusement under some kind of control. "I practically had to drag him away from Lucil."

"You're delusional," was the Mevyn's only answer for that.

"I don't know," Baralai mused, wiping a bit of water from the rim of his glass. "I did notice both Lucil and Leblanc watching you rather closely."

"That's our Noojster; such a ladies' man."

"I just hate to think what would happen should Paine learn of this…"

"Brats," Nooj muttered as he quickly finished the last of his drink. It seemed that, even before he could motion for it, another drink was before him—and a refill for the others, as well. For a moment, the three stared in silence at their individual drinks and it seemed an effort to speak what was both so heavy and so light on all their minds.

"So, who's going to say it?" Gippal finally managed. He was clearly trying to keep a light tone, but it seemed something of an effort, especially to those who still knew him so well.

"We somehow managed to do it again," Baralai sighed. He lowered his eyes, his gaze falling to the circle of light from the candle set in the middle of the table. "Even through such horrible odds, we somehow managed to evade death yet again."

"Some of us more willingly than others," Nooj added dryly.

Gippal snorted and rolled his eye. "Oh, come on. You're not still bitter about the Lady High Summoner's plan working, are you?"

The Mevyn shook his head. "It doesn't matter, now."

"It does raise an interesting question, though," Baralai interrupted before Gippal could antagonize Nooj any further. "If you could choose it, how _would_ you want to die?"

"Isn't that a bit morbid to be talking about, now?" Gippal objected, making no attempt to hide his distaste for the subject. "Considering that we just _got_ _away from _death…"

"No, I'm serious," Baralai insisted. "I want to understand the death which would satisfy even the _Taydrcaagan_." He had chosen to use the Al Bhed word for Deathseeker since, even now, it somehow seemed both more fitting and a bit easier for him to grasp. "We each must have thought about it, given what we've been through."

"Not me," muttered Gippal, but he was mostly ignored.

"I've been considering it much longer than the last short while," Nooj reminded them.

Baralai nodded, "So then, you must have a good idea of your ideal death."

"My ideal death," the Deathseeker repeated slowly, as if tasting each of the individual words. It was something which had never been truly discussed among the three of them, even after the sandbear incident, and he had never expected to have to describe such an intimate thing to them. Still, the drinks had put him into a temperate mood and so he felt that he could allow this small trespass into his thoughts, as long as they understood that this in no way invited them to try to impede his goal.

"It is something you would have seen," he finally continued. "If, that is, Yuna hadn't stepped in the way."

"So you _are_ still bitter about that?" Gippal sighed, running his fingers back through his hair. "You'd really want to die, having shot Lai and with Shuyin in control of you?"

"I would have died before Shuyin could fully have control," Nooj explained. "It was a flawless plan."

The Al Bhed was clearly not convinced. "Yea, except for the part where you'd be repeating the same stupid mistakes the Summoners made, sacrificing yourself when there were plenty of other choices."

"I don't think it's really like that," Baralai finally spoke, joining the conversation. "Maybe, like the Summoners, Nooj just wanted a death which would make a difference, which would allow him some honor." He turned his attention to the Deathseeker and, for a brief moment, he thought he could find just a bit of understanding. "He is our Captain, and the greatest thing a Captain can do is to go down with the ship, saving his men; if Spira is our ship, then it is only fitting that our Captain sacrifices himself for it."

"It's still useless martyrdom, no matter how you look at it," Gippal disagreed. "There was no need for him to try to die like that."

"We are speaking hypothetically, gentlemen." Nooj reminded the both of them. "The time for that particular opportunity has passed, but it still remains the ideal—which is what I believe I was asked, in the first place."

"Great. Question answered, conversation closed." Gippal added quickly. Leaning back in his chair, he motioned to the bartender. "How about another round of drinks?"

"Conversation not closed," the Mevyn countered, turning his attention to Baralai. "The least you can do is answer the question, yourself."

"I don't mind answering," he agreed readily enough to surprise the other two. "If you had asked me this question when I was younger, I would have doubtlessly answered in much the same way as Nooj: I would die for the greatest ideal, to save Spira." Baralai paused and dropped his glance to watch the swirl of water in his glass. Then, after a moment, he managed a smile, wan at first but soon growing to something more sincere. "Now, after all I've seen and learned, I just want to live a good life and then to die surrounded by my family." His words, his smile, all about him made it perfectly clear that the 'family' in question were those now gathered with him, here, even if he couldn't be sure that they would all make it to old age. "I can't think of a better end."

"The sentimental happy ending," Nooj nodded, smirking slightly. "It fits you."

Baralai lifted his shoulders in a faint shrug, but he was still smiling. "I don't think anyone could face what we have and not be changed in a fundamental sort of way."

"Speak for yourself," Gippal snickered, finishing the last of his drink. As he got to his feet, he could hear the muffled sound of fireworks over the city and he caught the door before it could close behind a young couple leaving the bar. His head turned, he watched the sky over Luca as it burst with color.

"What about you, then?" Nooj asked, watching Gippal with veiled curiosity. "How would you choose to die?"

"That's simple." The Al Bhed answered, his face bathed in a flash of silver-white light. "I'm going to live forever."


End file.
